


Deep Seas

by timeladyinthelibrary



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Loosely based on the movie but with more gay and maybe less death but I can't promise anything, M/M, RMS Titanic, Titanic AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 14:45:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4439870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeladyinthelibrary/pseuds/timeladyinthelibrary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1912 and Castiel Milton, young, rich and unhappy sets foot aboard the RMS Titanic. To save his family from a financial crisis he is bound to marry Meg Masters, the young daughter from a wealthy family. Dean Winchester, a free spirit, gambler, traveler of worlds and almost-criminal didn't so much buy tickets for the ship as accidentally stumble upon it. As fate would have it, the two meet. Titanic AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So... I'm starting this. This fic is loosely based on the Titanic movie and as you'll see I'm borrowing lines here and there. The characters are not mine either, obviously. I have a lot of plans and ideas for this but I guess we'll just have to wait and see where it goes. Thanks to Laura and Wout for being my betas, as always. I love you guys.  
> Feel free to leave some feedback, or a comment, or a suggestion!

A pair of hands are hovering above the old type writer. They are wrinkled, showing all the signs of old age, yet they are still as strong as they used to be. Slowly a fingertip presses down, still hesitating but quickly becoming more sure as the rest of the fingers join in and the first words start to appear on the paper.  
  
_“It’s been 84 years…”_  
  
The rattling stops. The man behind the typewriter sighs and lifts a shaky hand up to cover his mouth as he closes his eyes. It’s been 84 years. The year is 1996 and it’s been 84 years since the RMS Titanic made its way towards the bottom of the ocean. Typewriters are deemed unnecessary and old fashioned now, but Castiel Milton feels like he won’t be able to write this story without a little piece of that time, something to remind him not everything has been washed away by modern technologies and new innovations, spaceships and internet, a car in every driveway and a never-ending lust for the future and the yet unknown. Castiel, in most ways, prefers the old times. Most ways.  
  
He takes in a deep breath and casts a glance at the faded picture in the heavy silver frame that stands at the corner of his desk. Two people look back at him, one of them wearing a lazy grin, the other the beginning of a smile. Though one of them has been long gone, the picture still is enough to give Castiel what he was looking for.  
  
_“It’s been 84 years… and I can still smell the fresh paint. The china had never been used. The sheets had never been slept in.”  
_ He smiles.  
“Titanic was called the ship of dreams. And it was. It really was.”


	2. All Aboard

_April 10_ th, 1912  
  
The harbour of Southampton had never been this full of people. It seemed as if the entire country had come out to watch the RMS Titanic take off, and the crowds were making Castiel Milton feel claustrophobic. Their taxi driver had a hard time making its way towards the ship’s first class entrance, making Castiel’s fiancé, Meg, huff in annoyance. Finally they found an empty spot and their driver quickly made his way around the car to open the passenger doors.   
A young man steps out, dressed in dark grey slacks and a crisp white shirt. He gazes up to the ship, a sharp yet unimpressed look in his vivid blue eyes. Castiel Milton is young, rich and unhappy.   
  
“I don’t see what all the fuss is about. It doesn’t look any bigger than the Mauretania,” he remarks, already trying his hardest to sound bored. The other passenger door opens and Meg Masters steps out. Heiress to the fortune of the Masters family, she is dressed in a dark purple dress that had cost more than her ticket for the Titanic. Her dark curls are hidden underneath the large feathered hat she is wearing, but the ever present arrogant smile is clearly visible. She’s Castiel’s fiancé and he’s been told she’s beautiful, but he has never been able to shake the feeling she could stab him with a sword and still keep that smile on her face.   
  
“You can blasé about some things, Castiel, but not about the Titanic. I’ve heard it’s over a hundred feet longer than the Mauretania, and far more luxurious. It has squash courts, a Parisian café… even Turkish baths.”  
  
Before he has time to answer she has already turned and given her hand to Anna Milton, who is stepping out of their vehicle as well. She’s in her fifties but her dark red hair is still as bright as when she was younger.  


“Your son is much too hard to impress,” Meg remarks and Anna gives her a small smile, sending a look over to her son who is now looking over the crowds.   
“So this is the ship they say is unsinkable,” she marvels, gazing at the immense deck of the ship, already full of people.   
“It is unsinkable. God himself couldn’t sink that ship,” Meg laughs before turning towards a porter that has come their way to make sure their luggage will be brought towards their respective suites.   
Anna has come up to Castiel, hooking her arm through his.   
“ _Behave_ , Castiel,” she mutters under her breath, gripping his wrist too tightly. “She won’t take that nonsense of yours forever.”  
Castiel opens his mouth to speak, to disagree maybe, but Meg has already caught up on them.   
“Shall we get on our board?”  
  
They make their way through the waving and cheering crowd, though Meg and Anna pay more attention to their conversation than to the people around them. Castiel is walking a few meters behind and tries to take in as much as possible; the enormous ships with its four chimneys, the foreigners around him and the families kissing their loved ones good bye. The air feels static and alive, as if the excitement of all the attendants to this voyage has poured out of their hearts and into the Southampton harbour. It really was a ship of dreams to everyone else, but to Castiel it was a slave ship, taking him back to America in chains he wouldn’t be able to escape out of. On the outside, he was the fine and handsome young man he should be, looking everything like the man he was brought up to be, but on the inside, Castiel felt like he was screaming.  


* * *

  
  
Several blocks away, Dean Winchester was busy not caring much about the giant ship and the even bigger crowds that were making their way through the harbour district. He was in the middle of a poker game together with Benny Lafite, his best friend and partner in crime. They were playing against two Swedes they’d met in the pub a few hours earlier and at some point someone had decided it was time to gamble. People decided that often when they were around Dean Winchester.   
  
One of the Swedes, Olaf, says something against the other, and it doesn’t sound too happy. They’re playing at high stakes here.   
“Dean, are you sure this is a good idea?” Benny whispers at Dean, a cigarette dangling out of his mouth. “You put in everything we have.”  
Dean smirks back at him, taking his cigarette out of his mouth and tapping off the ashes without looking as he leans back. “When you have nothing, you have nothing to lose.”   
Benny rolls his eyes at him, an unsure twitch around his mouth, as the Swedes continue to argue.   
  
“I can’t believe you bet our tickets!” Olaf exclaims. “You lost our money, I’m just trying to get it back,” Sven answers irritated. He slams down another card on the sticky table.   
Loose coins are scattered across the centre, together with a pocket watch, a silver lighter and a pair of tickets to the RMS Titanic. High stakes.   
  
“Hit me again Sven,” Dean grins. He takes the card and slips it into his hand. He looks at it with the same vaguely amused look on his face he’s had the entire time. When you’re an artist roaming around Europe with little to no food, you have to learn how to be good at poker, and Dean is even better at it.   
The tension is rising and next to him Benny moves nervously as he refuses a card. In the distance the whistle of the Titanic blows again- the ship will be taking off very soon now. Sven and Olaf share a worried glance.   
  
“Alright. Moment of truth. Somebody’s life’s about to change.” Dean looks serious now. “Benny?”  
Benny looks at him, beaten, and puts his cards on the table.   
“Nothing,” Dean says.   
“Nothing,” Benny repeats, annoyed, but Dean has already moved on.   
“Olaf?”   
Olaf puts his cards down too, and yet again- nothing.   
“Sven?” Dean turns to their other opponent, who slams down his cards with a triumphant look on his face.   
Dean purses his lips. “Two pair…” He turns to his friend. “Sorry Benny.”   
“Sorry? What sorry? What you got? You’re not losing all my money, brother!” He’s starting to sound pissed, but Dean interrupts him.  
“Sorry you’re not gonna see your old lady for a long time ‘cause we’re going to America! Full house boys!” Dean whoops and throws his cards on the table as chaos starts to break loose; Benny has grabbed the tickets and is raking the money towards him while Dean clasps his shoulder.   
“I’m going home! We’re going to America!”   
Benny laughs and cheers, holding up their tickets. “America!”  
The Swedes at the other side of the table are having a fight, both too mad at each other to really pay attention to their victors.   
  
“The Titanic is going to America, boys! In five minutes!” The bartender yells at them, pointing at the clock.   
“Crap- come on!” Dean punches Benny’s arm and the two quickly make their way through the bar, starting to run down towards the ship.   
  
Their newfound fortune makes Dean feel like he’s flying, and he’s still cheering all the way towards the harbour.   
“We’re going to America, Benny! Home! To the land of the free and home of the best apple pie you’ve ever tasted! On the Titanic, ridin’ in style!” He laughs again. “We’re practically goddamn royalty, brother!”   
Benny responds by whooping loudly. They jump over crates and other luggage, try to avoid horses and cars and to not collide with the thousands of people marvelling at the ship.   
All they got is their backpacks, which contain everything they possess. They’re the same poor good-for-nothing guys they were that morning, but the two tickets they have just obtained make all the change in the world.   
  
When they reach the third class entrance, the officer is about to swing down the gangway doors, but Dean quickly ducks underneath them.   
“Wait, sir! We’re passengers!”   
Next to him Benny waves their tickets, flushing and panting, as the officer is eyeing them suspiciously.   
“Have you been through the inspection queue?”   
“Of course,” Dean lies smoothly. “Anyway, we’re all good- we’re Americans!”  
The officer squints his eyes. “Right. Come aboard.” He takes their tickets, looking testy at the Swedish names printed on them, but the two imposters have already made their way into the ship.   
Avoiding the people packed in the narrow corridors they quickly make their way towards their rooms to drop off their luggage.   
  
On deck, Dean hangs over the rail and throws his arms in the air.  
“We’re the luckiest sons of bitches in the world!”   
The crowds below them seem much smaller now, the people not bigger than dolls and the chaos that it was to be down there seems calm now. Dean starts to wave at them.  
“You know somebody?” Benny asks, but Dean shakes his head. “Of course not. That’s not the point.” He grins at Benny. “They wave anyways- why not at us?”  
He turns towards the harbour again and starts yelling. “Goodbye! Goodbye! I’ll miss you!”   
Benny shakes his head at him but joins in on the moment, feeling it’s exhilaration.  
“Farewell!”


End file.
